


... And I’ll Call You By Mine

by amerithaikings



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), GOT7, TWICE (Band)
Genre: Accurate or perfect :/, F/M, M/M, So this is a cmbyn au, Youngjae and Tzuyu is only for a lil bit, i read the book a while ago so excuse me if it’s not like
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-07-01 13:34:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15775116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amerithaikings/pseuds/amerithaikings
Summary: Call Me By Your Name AU; Academic Park Jinyoung stays at the Choi residence and Youngjae quickly develops a teenage crush on him, seemingly so out of his reach.





	1. I

The first time Youngjae became aware of Jinyoung was his gentle knocking on the door of the house. Youngjae had heard the distant slam of the cab door but dismissed it to be some distant spat-turned-lockout, not uncommon of the elderly couple living nearby. He heard the formal, carefully polite greeting belonging to many of the scholars that he had no care for and rolled his eyes, closing his trashy teen book and making his way downstairs to greet the man. Every summer Youngjae’s parents would open their holiday home to a hopeful academic either wanting to practice their writing and/or ask Youngjae’s father his opinion on their articles, him being a top university lecturer as well as a critical yet kind reviewer. Youngjae’s father was infuriatingly good at the humanities, having filled his head to the brim with knowledge at college, making the villa a sought-after spot for young hopefuls. Youngjae usually kept to himself, playing the piano occasionally and hanging out with other locals, namely Jackson who would ride his bike up to Youngjae’s house every day just to get him to come to the town square and drink a too-warm beer while pretending to enjoy himself. He liked Jackson, yes, but didn’t fit into this culture of sticky summer nights and clubs.   
Youngjae glanced in the mirror halfway down the stairs, fluffing his sun-bleached hair up a little and sighing at the tan he’d acquired. 

The first thing Youngjae became aware of about Jinyoung was his ass. It wasn’t Youngjae’s fault- Jinyoung was facing away from him and his ass was just... right there. Youngjae prayed he wasn’t turning bright red when the man turned around at the sound of Youngjae stumbling down the last few stairs and caught Youngjae just in time. The boy blushed harder, feeling how firmly he was being held. Youngjae looked up finally, feeling slightly winded when he finally saw the hard stare of an incredibly attractive man. Youngjae straightened himself and started babbling out a simultaneous introduction and apology.   
“It’s okay. I’m Park Jinyoung,”   
Jinyoung. Jinyoung Jinyoung Jinyoung. The name suited him and Youngjae couldn’t hold his gaze for too long. He looked at the hardwood floor as he replied,   
“Choi Y-Youngjae.”   
“Ah! So you’re Professor Choi’s son? I’ve already heard so much about you.”   
This made Youngjae nervous. What had his parents said? That he’s only almost 18? That his parents had seen him staring at the male volleyball players on tv so much that maybe Jinyoung would be best off keeping away from him? That he was desperately failing maths?   
“Oh, uh, good things I hope?”   
It was when Jinyoung smiled at him that Youngjae realised that he had been let go of, only the feeling of phantom hands remaining. The smile didn’t properly reach his eyes and this made Youngjae nervous.   
“Of course; your parents are very proud of you. I heard you play piano?”   
Oh god. Youngjae didn’t really play mainstream piano, opting against grades and classical pieces to play his own music instead. If he’d have to play any of his novice, cringe work for this man he’d probably throw himself off his balcony.   
“Here and there. Do you play?” Youngjae attempted to seem aloof, leaning against the banister of his house (slipping once, but recovering quickly).   
“Ah, no. I play guitar occasionally. But I mainly focus on these,” here he gestured to a pile of books threatening to collapse on the faded wooden table.   
“Oh! Do you want me to help you with those? I’ll show you to my- y-your room.”   
Jinyoung’s room was, actually, Youngjae’s room; one of the main reasons why Youngjae resented the academics coming to his house was that he’d have to move out of his normal room into one that doesn’t hold light as well, seems to get dusty at twice the rate and has a much smaller bed, not that Youngjae really used it for... much. The floorboards are creaky and the door is much less soundproof than the others for some reason, making it the worst room in the house (Mr and Mrs Choi call him dramatic and whiny).   
“I should be okay with the books, but if you could show me up that’d be great.”   
Youngjae barely tore his eyes away from Jinyoung as he heaved the books up, watching the hints of veins on his straining muscles appear under his thin t-shirt. His mouth waters slightly. Jinyoung grunts a little with the weight and Youngjae has to manually remind himself to start walking up the stairs to his room, trying so, so hard not to focus on the traces of sounds the man is making behind him. The younger just prays to anything out there he hasn’t left anything potentially incriminating for the older to see if he looks around.   
“Is this you?” Jinyoung chuckles at a picture of Youngjae smiling around a popsicle stick when he was 4, hair sticking up and eyes shut cutely.   
“Yeah. I can bring you to where that was taken, if you want. It’s just a couple of minutes that way, and the views are really beautiful,” Youngjae kind of hears the desperation in his own voice and can’t stand it so he just trails off, wincing internally at himself.   
“Maybe later,” Jinyoung says with an odd combination of airiness and finality. Either way, the lack of intention in it makes Youngjae’s chest squeeze with embarrassment. Obviously Jinyoung would have work to do, obviously he would want to settle in, obviously he’d want to talk to Youngjae’s parents over him, obviously obviously obviously. Youngjae can feel the tips of his ears burn and hopes Jinyoung is too busy looking at the room to notice.   
“Sorry. I’ll bring your bag up so you can unpack,” Youngjae gives one final offer.   
“No, no. It’s fine. I’ve got it,”   
And it’s swatted away like a cat toying lazily with a panicked fly. Youngjae understands and leaves quickly, deciding that he’d better go to the pool, his room being too close to Jinyoung for comfort. He rushes to the cool water and tries to use its spray to calm his blush. He assumes that while his slight tan must hide some of the redness his face must be glowing in pink, and just thinking about it as his heart sinks with the familiar feeling of rejection makes it worse. So, the pool. 

It was so unfair, Youngjae thought as he lay with his face resting on his folded forearms by the side of the pool, how good Jinyoung looked with a tan versus himself. Jinyoung was glowing, the light reflecting off of his perfect cheekbones and the tip of his nose, whereas Youngjae saw himself as muddied looking. The tan clung to imperfections and was uneven. Youngjae thought it was easier to resent Jinyoung than admit he was already crushing, his teenage hormones practically ringing their alarms for any man slightly better looking than average. However, even Youngjae could tell that Jinyoung was practically god-like. His broad chest led down to a peach-shaped ass and slim waist, and his facial proportions were perfect; his nose was high and straight, not too wide or narrow, his eyes sprouted adorable crinkles when he smiled at Youngjae’s baby picture and his pouty lips were so to die for Youngjae could practically jump in front of a train any moment.   
“Hello hello!” A loud voice startled Youngjae from his pit of obsessive Jinyoung-ing. It was Jackson. Probably here to utilise the pool and get his tan on (Jackson also suited a tan, the contours of his abs [also unfair] catching the light gorgeously when they’re golden brown from the sun), Jackson was good and fun company, being so extroverted he could practically make friends with a rock. Jackson was the social papillon in their small summer community and was always the one to encourage that extra shot or take pictures on his disposable (for memories) (meaning blackmail).   
“Hey Jackson. What’s up?” Youngjae barely looks up, squinting at his friend through the sunlight.   
“Nothing much, just wanted to see my favourite boy” Jackson said, punctuating his reasoning with a pinch to the younger’s cheek. “How goes it?”  
“It’s been better.” Youngjae sighs, “We have our new academic in-“  
“Oh, how is he? Is he really bad?”  
“No...” Youngjae can feel the blush returning to his cheeks as he pouts. “He’s really attractive.”   
Jackson perks up at this in a way Youngjae was sure he would; Jackson liked both girls and boys and an attractive member of either sex would grab his attention and be the new object of his fancy.  
“What’s his name?”   
“Park Jinyoung.”   
“I feel like one of my dad’s friends has that name. Kind of creepy old guy. Nice enough though,” Jackson wrinkles his nose slightly as he goes on his own tangent.   
“One time I caught him looking at some- holy fuck.”   
Youngjae knew without looking up that the one and only Jinyoung had probably decided to make an appearance, making Jackson go into full flirt mode. He instantly took off his thin t-shirt, revealing his glowing abs, and lay down next to Youngjae.  
“Youngjae, come into the pool with me. Please! Please come into the pool,” suddenly Jackson was begging, a mixture of his probable desire and neediness mixed into one.   
“Why?”   
“Because I want to look good for Mr. Good-Looking but I don’t want to go alone, I’d make a fool of myself. Come with! Show off!”   
Youngjae wanted to scoff but instead hurriedly pulled his shirt off and slipped into the pool quickly so Jinyoung wouldn’t notice his less defined body. He felt like eyes were on him, but wrote it off to be paranoia; if Jinyoung’s eyes were on anyone it’s the mini Greek god that just dove into the water as if he were an Olympic swimmer. Youngjae was barely splashed and he flicked the two wet strands of hair out of his face as Jackson’s smiling face breaks the surface of the water.   
“You idiot. You make everything seem so smooth,” Youngjae grumbles.   
Jackson’s high laugh was infectious, however, and Youngjae felt the corners of his mouth turn involuntarily upwards. Jackson slaps his hand against the water, spraying Youngjae with a rain of droplets that the latter gladly returns, before feeling watched and uncomfortable.   
Jinyoung had sat down in a deck chair only a couple of metres away with an open book, however the line of his eyes was directed over the abandoned pages and straight at Youngjae, with a hard, unreadable expression. The smile immediately fell from Youngjae’s face; was he being too childish? Too loud? He could imagine how distracting him and Jackson could be while Jinyoung was trying to read. Youngjae’s already fractured heart sank a little lower when he realised Jinyoung was now looking at Jackson, the academic’s eyes raking down his body. Jackson was 20, and undeniably the cooler role model figure Youngjae admired but could never quite be close enough to. It only made sense that Jinyoung should be almost magnetically directed towards him- everyone was. It was part of Jackson’s nature, and Youngjae got it, so the youngest opted to lift himself out of the pool and call to the family’s small dog, Coco, to keep him company.   
“Hey! Why’d you get out?” The insatiable Jackson pouted, and it lit a flicker of irritation within Youngjae.   
“I can see Jinyoung making eyes at you, I don’t want to be a distraction.”   
A brush of red actually appeared at the top of Jackson’s cheeks at this, and he looked charmingly at Jinyoung, mouth stretched wide in a smile. Youngjae sighed as he picked up the tiny Maltese, smiling as her tongue excitedly lapped at him, not quite reaching the intended target of his face. She quickly wriggled out of his grasp to investigate the newcomer, and Youngjae wondered if he could hold down anything at this point. He heard a cute giggle from behind him and turned to see Jinyoung blowing raspberries into the dog’s belly, Coco squirming crazily and trying to chase the man’s face with her out-of-control tongue. It was an adorable sight and Youngjae had to look away.   
“Oh my god I’ve never jealous of a dog but there’s a first time for everything,” Jackson says lowly, leaning his elbows on the side of the pool. Youngjae hummed in agreement and Jackson ran a hand through his wet hair, styling it backwards in an effortlessly sexy manner.   
“Fuck it.” Jackson suddenly said and pushed himself up and out of the pool, walking over to Jinyoung. Youngjae gaped at his confidence as Jackson went to Jinyoung’s deck chair in the guise of wanting to play with Coco, Jinyoung’s deep eyes turning towards Jackson with a look of openness Youngjae hadn’t had the pleasure of experiencing thus far. He felt a tug in his chest when he saw Jinyoung shaking Jackson’s hand and smiling up at him, Coco getting more restless due to the lack of attention on her. She got fed up after around five seconds of Jinyoung not playing with her, so naturally ran back to Youngjae.   
“So now you come crawling back, huh?” Youngjae smiled down at the dog. He tried actively not focusing on the idle talk behind him, but it was proving impossible.   
“Oh? I don’t think I know of anyone combining literature and art history for a double major... is it common? What are you doing?”   
“It’s not as common as, say, fine art and art history, but there are still some of us. I’m working on exploring how the use of non-fiction texts such as Freud’s interpretation of dreams affects art movements such as Surrealism versus how fiction and poetry affects movements such as the pre-Raphaelites.”   
“Holy shit,” was Jackson’s truly calculated and intelligent response. Jinyoung laughed, the sound muffled by a hand coming up to shield his open mouth and Youngjae’s eyes snapped downwards at the realisation he was staring. 

“Why am I letting you do this to me.” Youngjae sighs, feeling Jackson rub more of the dye into his hair.   
“Because you love me and would never let me do this alone?”   
Jackson decided that instead of black, he wanted his hair to be a “nice chocolate brown”. This turned into him buying two boxes of hair dye and convincing Youngjae to dye his hair with him. Youngjae wasn’t even sure what colour the dye would turn his hair, but he had a little faith in Jackson not to turn his hair bright green.   
“Okay, done. Now we leave it for half an hour to set.”   
Youngjae groaned, the bathroom floor already uncomfortable enough after sitting there for an hour, helping Jackson with his hair and then getting his head dealt with.   
“So, Jinyoung, huh?” If Youngjae’s voice wavers Jackson doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead the older boy goes slightly pink and looks down, looking like a schoolgirl asked about her crush.   
“What about him?”   
“Do you like him?”   
“You sound so juvenile, Youngjae... He’s cute, yes. Smart, yes. His voice is like honey and his lips are-“   
“So, yes. You do.” Youngjae cut him off, slightly irritated at being told what he already knew. Well, could hear from conversation. Youngjae hadn’t talked to Jinyoung since that time in his room, mainly because he felt that any time he talked to Jinyoung it would end in embarrassment.   
“What’s he majoring in again?” Of course Youngjae remembered. He was trying to remember everything he heard so far, but didn’t want himself to be the object of Jackson’s teasing, especially when the older boy eventually would get with the academic (of this Youngjae was sure).   
“Literature and Art History. Blah, right? I thought so. But when he described it it actually sounded interesting.”   
And now was the time for Youngjae to start thinking like a petulant child. He didn’t think it was blah. He didn’t think it was boring. When he liked a book, he could finish it in a day. He just didn’t read as much as he liked to. And he liked art! Perhaps he didn’t understand it all the time but he still enjoyed looking at it. He was clearly a much better fit for Jinyoung.   
“Hello? Earth to Youngjae?”   
“Sorry. What were you saying?”   
“I think I’ll ask him to come to Eclipse tonight, are you down?”   
Eclipse was the main club in town, with reasonably priced drinks and the songs of the summer of that year playing on a slightly too-loud playlist. Youngjae normally opted out of going, deciding instead to stay in and watch a film from the stack in his room threatening to fall over with one strong gust of wind. But the suggestion of Jinyoung being there, in the heat and close proximity of the club, bodies pressed close-   
Yes, it appealed to Youngjae.   
“Sure,” Youngjae attempted to sound nonchalant, but the slight breathlessness in his voice gave him away. 

Youngjae had to admit, when it came to style, Jackson knew what he was doing.  
Once the dye had been washed out, Jackson attacked Youngjae’s hair with a hairdryer before Youngjae had the chance to look at it. But when he was finished, Jackson clapped his hands together with a sparkle in his eyes that told the younger perhaps his hair was a bit more drastic than planned.   
“You look amazing,” Jackson gasped, like a proud mother.   
Youngjae nervously turned to the mirror and gaped. His hair was now a dark blond, complimenting his darker skin with new honey highlights. Jackson was blow drying his own newly brunette hair with a grin.   
“Holy shit Jacks, what did you do?”   
“Don’t you love it?” Jackson’s voice wavered slightly.   
Youngjae had to admit, it did look good. It brought out the lightness in his eyes and looked better with his tan than the brown did, and overall he looked more summery.   
“I... I do. Thank you, Jackson” Youngjae smiled at him, with his also newly lightened hair that suited him as much, if not more, than Youngjae’s.   
Youngjae just hoped a certain someone would notice the change.   
Jackson stormed into Youngjae’s room while the latter was zoning out, quickly raiding his wardrobe, throwing out shirts onto the bed. When Youngjae heard the noise he quickly scrambled to get to his bedroom down the hall, almost bumping into Jinyoung along the way.   
“Whoa, new hair?” Jinyoung smiled down at Youngjae, eyebrows raised.   
“Y-Yeah, Jackson just dyed it for me.” Fuck, don’t heat up don’t heat up- Youngjae repeated like a mantra.   
“It suits you! And your skin tone,” Jinyoung ran a hand lazily through Youngjae’s hair, pushing it back. Youngjae immediately tensed, the feeling of the older’s nails gently scraping his scalp making him almost moan. So, he tended up, his brain going a million miles an hour. Jinyoung must’ve felt it, because he quickly retracted his hand, looking slightly horrified. Jinyoung had probably realised what he was doing and regretted it, not wanting to lead Youngjae on. But the touch was enough for something, anything, to bloom in Youngjae’s mind.   
“Are you coming out tonight?” Youngjae asked.   
“Yeah, maybe. I’ll see.” And there was that ambivalence that Youngjae hated, with the smile that didn’t form the crinkles he adored upon first sight.   
“Okay. See you, maybe,” Youngjae tried to mirror the effortless coolness, and Jinyoung furrowed his brows a little at the change in attitude.   
Jinyoung walked past and Youngjae waited a second to still his hammering heart before going into his (now) tip of a room, with Jackson sorting out clothes and outfits for the evening.   
“You have to wear this shirt! It’ll look so good with your new hair. And these shorts! Or these jeans? I like the rips. Either works!” Jackson rattled on, and Youngjae smiled appreciatively, preparing to get ready for his first night out of the summer.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I thought I had already uploaded another chapter of this. Gah. To be honest with y’all I haven’t written anything for it for ages..... maybe I’ll get some new inspiration.... ahhhhh..

The heat was shocking. With the buildings in town blocking any wind in combination with the wall of body heat in the club, Youngjae was kind of suffering. He had left with Jackson, and his own internal concerns over whether Jinyoung would be coming were voiced by the older, who looked practically ethereal in his half-unbuttoned shirt tucked into tight black jeans. He wore a chain around his neck that drew the eye to the triangle of exposed skin, with hints of gleaming collarbone. Youngjae wore a light pink loose polo tucked into light blue cuffed loose jeans with small rips around the thighs, revealing slivers of tan. Jackson immediately led the younger to the bar, ordering two rum and cokes, and Youngjae braced himself for the too-strong mixing typical of the town. He took the dark drink from Jackson’s hand and tried to imitate the older’s ballsy gulp, only to grimace and shudder immediately. Jackson laughed, and Youngjae sipped again. He scanned the crowd, looking for a certain scholar in the mass of people, sighing lightly when he wasn’t there.   
“Do you see Jinyoung?” Jackson asked, peering over the heads in front of him.   
“No, sorry,” Youngjae replies dejectedly. The fact he only came to the club so he could try and make a move on a guy that wasn’t even there depressed him a little, so he took a gulp of liquid courage and dragged Jackson to the dance floor. 

Jackson was nowhere to be found and Youngjae was too drunk to find him. Youngjae, after Jackson had walked off with some random girl he knew, had consumed two more rum and cokes, and was dancing with a group of tourist foreigners, making friends with them easily. He used whatever English he could remember and they bought him a drink to encourage him to catch up with their drunkenness. One of the boys, Mark, had grabbed Youngjae’s hips at one point and was swaying his own along with the younger’s. Youngjae was both flattered and drunkenly happy-go-lucky, and on top of that Jinyoung wasn’t there. Therefore, the hands and hips stayed.   
“I’m going for a smoke, do you want to come with?” Mark asked. Youngjae considered it, but ultimately he decided against the hounding from his parents when they would inevitably smell the smoke on his clothes or find out from some of the town gossips.   
“I’m good, but come back and find me yeah?” Youngjae said to Mark, whose high cheekbones and radiant smile caught the light prettily, causing the older boy to wink. Youngjae went to get yet another drink to keep the feeling going, and once he’d taken his first sip, feeling oh-so-happy at the attention he was getting from the beautiful foreigner, he sat on a bar stool and scanned the dance floor for Jackson.   
His eyes landed to a nearby corner of the club with a plush table and couch, at which Jackson was sitting on Jinyoung’s lap, looking at him with those eager Jackson puppy eyes while Jinyoung poked his nose playfully. The lightness in Youngjae’s chest suddenly turned heavy and sank to the bottom of his being, simply at the sight of the genuine smile on Jinyoung’s face and his hand carelessly lying on Jackson’s hip. As if he could feel Youngjae’s sad eyes on him, Jinyoung’s gaze turned to the younger, the smile still on his face as he beckoned Youngjae over. The latter, however, had put his drink down and was already lowering his head and making his way out the back door of the club. The aching wouldn’t stop along with the swimming feeling in his head; ridiculous really, he thought, for a simple crush, but it was as much the fact that he was bitter at Jackson for being so perfect he could get whatever and whoever he wanted without a thought. So out Youngjae was, and as soon as his eyes landed on Mark, leaning against the grimy wall, smoke pouring out of his pink lips, he was throwing the foreigner’s cigarette on the floor and kissing him. He could feel the remaining smoke fanning his face, coming out of Mark’s nose, but he didn’t care, because Mark was kissing him just as furiously. Youngjae was flipped so the wall pressed into his back, and he let a shameless moan out as he tangled his hand in Mark’s brunette hair. Mark tasted of both smoke and the vodka shots he’d been doing, dangerous, and Youngjae loved it. Lips moving downwards, Mark sucked on the point where Youngjae’s ear met his neck, making the younger gasp. Liquid courage indeed, he thought, as he would never be doing this if it weren’t for the alcohol in his system. Even though he was hyperaware of who was sucking on his neck, Youngjae couldn’t get fucking Jinyoung out of his head, and the thought suddenly made his body overheated and uncomfortable.   
He let Mark’s mouth cover his again, squeezing his eyes shut to focus on the feeling of the older’s lips on his, but the alcohol and heat and Jinyoung was too much. He broke away from the kiss and Mark let out a groan at the loss.   
“I’m so sorry Mark, I- I’m so drunk, and...”  
“It’s fine, it’s fine, don’t worry,” Mark assured with a hand running through Youngjae’s hair as the younger tried to calm himself down.   
“I have a flight to catch tomorrow too, I’m such a jackass for being here. Thank you, Youngjae, for slapping some sense into me” Mark chuckled, running his knuckles softly against Youngjae’s cheek, and Youngjae couldn’t help but laugh as well. What would they have done if he hadn’t stopped it?   
“I think I’m going to try and find my friends and go home...” Mark’s eyes were getting sharper and Youngjae nodded, the both of them gathering themselves before going back inside.   
Once he’d waved goodbye to Mark after obtaining his number, Youngjae walked wearily to whereabouts he’d seen Jackson and Jinyoung earlier.   
Suddenly he felt a hand gently grasp his hip, and his back shortly came into contact with another body. He was about to sigh and reject someone for the second time that night when a low voice spoke into his ear.   
“Hey, you left me earlier, where did you go?”   
The voice was easily recognisable for Youngjae given he’d mentally replayed it describing his double major multiple times.   
“I... uh...”  
Another hand came up to tilt Youngjae’s head relatively sharply forward, exposing his neck to the low club lighting.   
“Ah, so you’ve been having fun, huh? With who?”   
“Yes-no! Ah... A-a foreigner...” It was hard for Youngjae to concentrate when Jinyoung’s warm breath was ghosting over his already-sensitive mark, and he found his eyes closing, absolutely despising the fact he had to suppress some kind of noise slipping from his mouth.   
“A foreigner hm?” Jinyoung’s voice was low and rough and hot, and Youngjae could feel the fingers on his hip digging in a bit and the trace of lips on his neck.   
Almost instantly they were gone and Youngjae was weirdly cold in the humid club.   
The younger spun around to face Jinyoung, who was staring down at him with an unreadable look on his face, adding to his growing nausea.   
“I’m drunk. Too drunk,” Youngjae blurted out. 

Jinyoung walked Youngjae home in silence. It’s not like Youngjae didn’t want to say anything, he just had no idea what to start with. He was burning to know the extent of Jinyoung’s relationship with Jackson given the fact that the latter was nowhere to be found when Jinyoung attached himself to Youngjae...   
“Who was he?”   
Jinyoung’s surprisingly cold voice broke the wall of quiet. Youngjae knew he should have refused the walk home, because now Jinyoung definitely resented him for cutting off his night. To his surprise, Jinyoung pulled a copper cigarette case out from his pocket and lit one up.   
“You smoke?”  
“Mine first.”   
Youngjae remembered Mark’s pretty smile and strong taste.   
“He was some Chinese American tourist. We kissed and I told him I was drunk and he remembered he had a plane to catch first thing so he left.” Jinyoung seemed to soften slightly when he heard the extent of Youngjae’s stunt.   
“Only when I’m stressed.”   
Youngjae thought about that as they walked in the moonlight. Jinyoung was most likely stressed about the work he was to do, or maybe because of something with Jackson. Youngjae noticed that he was meandering in his footsteps, zig-zagging on the gravel path, and that Jinyoung was following his side-to-side steps, keeping a perfect distance. He sighed.   
“What?” Jinyoung pressed.   
“Nothing.”   
“It must be something.”   
“I just sighed?”   
“But it was a loaded sigh. It had emotion in it. What do you really want to say?” It must have been the literature student in him. Of course, the sigh was loaded and emotional but Youngjae would rather a car drive up and hit him where he stood than tell Jinyoung that he wanted his body and that he hated that Jackson had it in one bat of his rounded eager eyes.   
“It said I’m tired and want to get back. I shouldn’t have come out and I shouldn’t have kissed Mark. That bruise will take days to fade.”   
If Jinyoung didn’t buy it he didn’t press further. He poured Youngjae a glass of water when they got back, Coco running to him immediately. Youngjae was leaning against his kitchen counter, eyes closed and feeling the earth spin. Jinyoung also sat and watched as Youngjae downed the entire glass before retiring to his room. Once he had reached his small bedroom, he flopped on the bed with another “loaded” sigh. If Jinyoung could read his sighs so well God knows how he could read Youngjae’s eyes or body or touch. It was a scary thought, to be such an open book to someone whose life work was studying them.   
He heard the gentle footsteps and the shut of Jinyoung’s door, and wondered what the older was thinking, doing. Was he sleeping at the first touch of his head to his pillow? Was he sighing too? Was he fighting nausea from cheap drinks?   
And Youngjae fell asleep thinking of every possibility of what the man across the hall could be doing. 

Coco was often a good alarm, but not when Youngjae was groggy and slightly headache-ridden. She jumped on Youngjae’s chest, like a child on Christmas morning eager to open presents, and Youngjae was very much the tired parent that wanted another hour of rest.   
But he got up anyways, and to his surprise Jinyoung was reading at the breakfast table.   
“Morning. Thanks for bringing me back last night, I was a mess” Youngjae offered, hoping to have bonded with him over his own state last night. But Jinyoung just hummed in response.   
“Welcome,” he replied curtly, not even lifting his eyes up from his book, making Youngjae irritated at the complete lack of advancement in their relationship.   
Youngjae sat down and picked fruit from the bowl in front of him, before deciding he couldn’t stand the awkwardness of not saying anything.   
“What are you reading?”   
Jinyoung didn’t answer, just picked up his book to reveal the cover to the younger.   
“Fight club? I didn’t really like that film.”   
That finally dragged Jinyoung’s eyes up to meet Youngjae’s.   
“Why?”   
“It just seemed a bit dumb. The premise is violent men doing what they do best and pummelling each other.” Youngjae shrugged and spoke his truth, while simultaneously being confused at why someone like Jinyoung would read something like Fight Club.   
“But it’s not; it’s about identity and violence and religion and masculinity and most of all politics. It’s about wanting to tear down everything this world is and rebuild it from the bare basics, really.”   
A sweep of red appeared on Youngjae’s cheeks, he’d watched it when he was 13 and didn’t really get all of that.   
“But you should read the book. I know it’s cheesy coming from a literature student but you should.”   
Youngjae nodded shyly, put back in his place by Jinyoung’s almost scolding words as he picked at a cube of watermelon.  
“Here. If you want.” Jinyoung held the book out and Youngjae looked up, getting a sort of whiplash from the rapidly changing attitudes.   
“Are you sure? You should finish it first.”   
“I have, many times. Don’t worry.”   
And Jinyoung smiled up at him, a warm and genuine one, and Youngjae was slightly taken aback at being on the receiving end of it. He took the relatively small book from Jinyoung’s hands, the spine creased with use and the pages readily folded from being turned.   
“How’s your neck?” The monotone was back. Seriously, Youngjae would have a much easier time getting over Jinyoung if he knew where he stood. 

Further confusion was added into the mix when Youngjae was reading Fight Club by the pool that afternoon, when he heard the loud telltale laugh that signalled Jackson was in the vicinity. Suddenly Jinyoung was marching towards the pool, carrying Jackson bridal style (his muscles showing beneath his t-shirt clearly but Youngjae wasn’t going to mention that), and Youngjae barely had enough time to shield the book before Jinyoung tossed his bride into the water, shortly diving in after him.   
“You’re such a dick!” Jackson squealed, peeling his now soaking shirt off, and Youngjae tried not to hear Jinyoung’s melodic laugh. The youngest‘s eyes were trained on the page in front of him without truly reading a single word.   
“Youngjae-yah!” His heart involuntarily leapt at the endearment-like phrase and he looked up instantly to meet Jinyoung’s dark eyes.   
“Are you enjoying it?” The academic asked, and Youngjae nodded automatically, not wanting to admit that he’d only read a couple of pages so far and didn’t really have an opinion. It was the right answer, however, and Jinyoung winked before turning his attention to Jackson. Youngjae had to still his heartbeat from the wink, not hearing the giggles of his friend over the bass-like thrum in his ears. He looked over once the two fell silent save for the faint rippling of water.   
His heart was very much on a rollercoaster built to Jinyoung’s design, and he had just reached a steep drop. The two had started kissing in the water, and Youngjae had to tear his eyes away from Jinyoung’s wandering hands and full lips at work. He stood up, gently dog-eared the book, and walked slowly to his room.   
He definitely had no clue where he stood with Jinyoung and in his mind it was slowly killing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is!! Enjoy. Tell me what you think! I always love comments uwu

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy! Please give me any feedback~ thank you to anyone who reads this!!


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